Here in the mountains
by PhoebeDreams
Summary: A moment during the Trio's hunt for the Horcruxes. Something happens that makes Ron think about his feelings for Hermione.


The hunt for the Horcruxes had taken their toll on all of them, but each of the three friends suffered in a different way. Harry was not only still suffering headaches and nightmares, he was also troubled by the many conflicting feelings raging within him: Grief for Dumbledore and Sirius, the weight of the immense responsibility weighing on him, the blind hatred he felt for Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and the fear of what might happen to the people he loved and cared for if he failed. He was constantly berating himself for allowing Ron and Hermione to go with him. And he missed Ginny, despite knowing that leaving her behind had been the right thing to do. So, apart from the long discussions they had about their plans, their next steps, the best way to proceed in their hunt, he didn't talk much. And his friends accepted it as they always had, being by his side but leaving him be, knowing well that he was not one to talk about his feelings. Just knowing they were with him gave him strength. Yet, he was worried about them. He hadn't looked into a mirror since they had left, but he had seen the traces of their hunt etched onto their faces: The tiredness in the dark circles under their eyes, the starvation in their hollow cheeks, the worry in their frowns, the November cold in their shivering limbs, the exhaustion in their pale skin, the fear in their eyes.

Hermione was taking the physical strain of their journey the hardest. Though far from weak, she had never been a big friend of the great outdoors, preferring an afternoon in the library over a walk outside, and she was neither as tall nor as athletic as the boys. Often they had to remind themselves to walk slower, to take more breaks, for she was too proud to be the one to request a break. She was thankful for every break they gave her, but other than that, she refused their help. Ron had offered her the support of his arm a dozen times, and Harry tried to nick some of her heavier stuff whenever they repacked their bags, always careful not to have her notice it, for if she did, she would demand to carry twice as much as they did just to prove that she could.

Ron on the other hand was not as bothered by the physical aspect of the mission. He was athletic and used to being outdoors, he had often gone hiking and camping in the wild with his brothers in summers past, and despite normally being a good eater, he had found out that he could live on surprisingly little. The only thing he needed and insisted the others take too was a sip of the firewhisky Bill had given him in the evenings, just to get warm before they went to sleep.

What really troubled him was the meaning of their trip, the meaning of everything they did. He had understood how the Horcrux worked and why they had to find them, but he was not sure if he had really grasped all the implications of it. Although he was normally not one to brood and think for hours, but rather take things as they came, now he was constantly thinking. Wondering what lay ahead of them, and remembering mistakes of the past. Imagining what would happen if they failed, what the others were doing in the meantime. Wondering how things could have come this far. Despairing about the fact that the order and everything it represented were the weaker side at the moment, and wondering whether that meant that they were simply wrong, and the others were right. He didn't allow those thoughts for very long, knowing that it would take all his faith and determination to get through this.

And of course then there was the question of Harry, who had pretty much stopped talking apart from technicalities and strategy. Even though he tried to repress the thought, he knew that the moment would come when Harry had to leave them and walk the rest of the way alone. He knew they would be behind him to shield him, but he would have to face the final battle alone. It broke his heart to even think about it. And yet, that was as it had always been – Harry had fought Voldemort for the philosopher's stone in his first year alone, he had rescued Ginny from the chamber alone, he had witnessed the re-incorporation of Voldemort alone, and he would have to kill him alone. Still Ron was determined to stay with him as longs as possible, to give him as much of his strength as he could, and he knew Hermione would do the same, although he was worried that soon there would not be much strength left within her. Of course she was way too proud and stubborn to ever say something, and she insisted she carry as much and eat as little as the boys did, but he had noticed how painfully thin she had become, and how she stumbled more than she walked. And yet, it was exactly that stubborn, self-destroying perseverance that made him love her even more.

Because he did love her, and he had not only realized that, but also finally admitted it to himself. Now the only thing he had to do was admit it to her, but that was just what he wasn't sure about – would it give her strength, or make things worse for them? And would she even return his feelings? Ginny had said she did, and he had hoped so too – there had been signs that even he couldn't miss. And, in a way, the reasons he used to think she could have for rejecting him had become pretty ridiculous – after all, in the weird state they were in, who cared that he was not the smartest or the funniest boy, the most handsome or the best Quidditch player? The only reason why she wouldn't want him was if she actually thought she couldn't love him, and that prospect was too painful to bear, so he decided to push that thought to the back of his mind as well and think about it some other time – there was plenty of time for thinking during the endless hours of walking or sitting on watch beside his sleeping friends. Then again, what if something happened to her, and he had never got the chance to tell her? What if something happened and he died, never knowing what she thought about it? He sighed. There were way too many "What ifs" to get into that one.

Just as he had finished the thought, he heard Hermione sigh slightly behind him. He turned around to give her an encouraging word or propose a rest when he saw her stumble and collapse onto the floor, where she just lay there in a crumpled heap, dead silent and motionless. The next few minutes passed in a blur. He fell down beside her to check her pulse and eventual wounds on her head, and carefully lifted her up and carried her over to a soft spot of moss. He kneaded her ice cold hands and chanted, over and over again, "Please, please, don't be injured! Please wake up again, Hermione! We need you!", while Harry quickly collected her backpack and spread out his sleeping bag on the floor.

"I don't know what she has, but it might be better to hold her upright and stabilized, in case she has to throw up."

He thought dimly "What would she throw up? She hasn't eaten anything all day!", but he sat down on the sleeping bag, gathered her up carefully and leant her lifeless body against him, while Harry splashed water from his water bottle onto her face. After what seemed like an eternity, her eyelids started to flutter, her hand twitched, and finally, she opened her eyes.

"What happened?" she inquired in a faint, scratchy voice that Ron had never heard from her and that scared him to death.

"You fainted." Harry told her, and that was the moment Ron's brain finally returned to clear consciousness and he realized how scared he had been. Suppressing a sob, he hugged her tightly to his chest, a display of emotion he would have never allowed himself mere weeks before, deeply breathing in the scent of her hair and feeling her beating heart that told him she was still alive.

"Er, Ron, you know it won't help if you suffocate her now." He quickly let go of her and turned beet red at Harry's words. As much as he had matured over the past weeks, that was one thing that hadn't changed. Hermione didn't seem to have noticed though, because she was staring stiffly ahead, murmuring slowly.

"I'm so sorry. I should never have come, I'm only slowing you down, and now I just go and drop to the floor and hold you back even more."

Before they could protest against this statement, she had bent forward and started vomiting. Ron quickly held her tangled hair back with one hand and rubbed her back and shoulders with his other while she threw up bile for what seemed like ages, her fragile body convulsing helplessly under his hands. After it was over, she sunk back weakly against his chest and began to cry. Harry splashed some water onto a handkerchief and gently wiped her face with it, while Ron could only look down at her shuddering form helplessly.

Finally, he did the only thing he could think of, he gathered her closer and began to softly rock her back and forth in his arms. When that didn't help much, he remembered his mum used to sing to him when he cried as a child, and he began to softly hum the tune of the Hogwarts song while rocking her, and slowly, very slowly, her sobbing subdued into quiet sniffles. Meanwhile, Harry had made a fire and set up a makeshift camp under the piece of tarpaulin they had brought with them. Ron was through with the Hogwarts song and, as it seemed to soothe her, tentatively started to sing a song he had once heard. It was actually rather sad, but it reminded him so much of their situation.

"_Your mother's buried with the preacher, __she woke me bleeding in the night. __They're killing every living creature in sight. __But here in the mountain nobody found them, they were so little, __caught in the middle. __And we, we can play around, I am not afraid and I will protect you. __Hush, hush don't make a sound. __Don't leave the fire burning they will detect you. __We saw the rebel army coming, we left a hundred days ago. __We had to leave before the sun rose. __High above the mountain nobody found them. __They've seen the violence, they dream in silence. __And we can play around, I am not afraid and I will protect you . __Hush, hush don't make a sound. __Don't leave the fire burning they will detect you. __I am not afraid and I will protect you"_

He wondered if she was listening enough to understand the words, and if she knew he meant them, so he whispered into her ear:

"You know that's the truth, right? I won't let anything happen to you", and, after a short, hesitant pause,

"I love you."

She didn't move or react in any way, and he figured she had fallen asleep, but when he brushed the strands of hair away from her face and pressed a soft kiss onto her forehead, there was a small smile dancing across her lips as her eyes closed and she drifted into peaceful sleep.


End file.
